Sunday, December 30, 2012

The twelve-year-old Jesus in the Temple spoke of his Father, and meant God; his gift to us is that we also can know our heavenly Father through him, and like him, model our lives and our witness after our true Parent.Pr. Joseph G. Crippen, First Sunday of Christmas, year C; texts: Luke 2:41-52; Colossians 3:12-17; 1 Samuel 2:18-20, 26

Sisters and brothers, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Joseph always seems to me to be a little pushed off to the side in the Christmas story, like all those Nativity icons and paintings which have him off in the corner. He is remarkably faithful and determined to do the godly thing, but we know little about him, save that he acted as father to Jesus. One wonders if he sometimes resented how his life was sort of taken over by this child who wasn’t his own.

It’s hard to imagine that he felt good about the episode Luke records which we heard today. Jesus, now twelve years old, is lost to him and Mary for 3 days, and when they finally catch up to him in the Temple of all places, arguing theology and Scripture with the elders and priests, of all people, he claims he’s in his Father’s house, or as it used to be translated (and perhaps would still be better understood), “doing his Father’s business.” His Father’s business? Joseph wouldn’t have to be a genius to understand that this child whom he was raising as his own wasn’t talking about a house in Nazareth or building tables.

But this becomes an important moment for us, we who see the crucified and risen Jesus as Son of God and Lord of the universe. Here, before he’s done any teaching, while he’s still a child in the eyes of the law, Jesus shows us two things: that he is imbued with the Word of God and deeply invested in knowing the written Scriptures, and that he knows his relationship to God as one of son to father.

John’s Gospel tells us that since no one has ever seen God, it is God the Son who makes the Father known to us, in ways we never could have known otherwise. That seems to be what Luke is doing here as well, telling us that if we watch this Jesus we will see what we need to know about God, even when he is just a child of twelve. Remember that in Luke’s Gospel there is no secret between the author and the reader about who Jesus is. From the beginning Luke declares Jesus’ divine parentage. But this episode not only underscores previous claims by Luke, it for the first time in this Gospel begins to draw out the implications of what it means for God to be born among us as one of us.

It may not have been pleasant for Joseph to have to face this reality, at least if it seemed a rejection of him. For us, it means the world: Jesus not only shows us our heavenly Father; he also shows us what it means to live in such a way that we, too, are about our Father’s business.

So, though Luke and John write very differently and have different goals, this is a truth they both would have us know: Jesus shows us our heavenly Father in ways we’d never have seen otherwise.

It’s a common theme throughout both of these beautiful Gospels, but if we simply stick with Luke, from whom we hear today, it’s a major part of his focus in writing. Throughout this Gospel, Jesus witnesses to the truth about God, his Father, in the face of a world which imagines God to be very different.

So Luke, and only Luke, tells us that Jesus at the start of his ministry linked himself to God’s servant announced in Isaiah who is anointed to bring Good News to the poor, the blind, the lame, and to bring them all life and healing.

Luke is the one who tells us of Jesus’ stories of a God who so desperately wants to bring wandering humanity back he will do whatever it takes, like a shepherd who’s lost a sheep, a woman who’s lost a coin, and powerfully, a father who’s lost a son. Jesus in Luke shows us the love of a heavenly Father who will stop at nothing to find us, welcome us, bring us home.

This is not what we usually expect of God, or imagine. All-powerful gods in human history tend to demand vengeance and punishment. They don’t sit on the front step day after day looking down the road waiting for sight of their lost ones so they can welcome them back with song and feast.

When the Son of God is brutally crucified, the way the world would write the story is that an all-powerful God would destroy those who dared touch his Son. Jesus in Luke asks the Father to forgive those who did what they did.

Again and again in this story Luke tells, Jesus reveals to us the love and heart of God for us and for the whole world, a love which crosses racial and social and gender and ethnic and religious lines, a love which is forgiving and offering life even as we are killing that love.

And even Jesus’ use of the term “Father” teaches us something unexpected about God. There are many in the Church today who have legitimate concerns about this, people who object to using “father” to refer to the First Person of the Trinity, not only because of its exclusively masculine nature (when of course the First Person is neither male nor female) but also because there are many awful fathers in this world, who hurt or abuse, or worse. The argument is that the word is irretrievably damaged and unusable. But consider this: Jesus actually was and is opening up a new vision of the love of the Creator for the world, inviting us to see the Creator as a loving parent, reinterpreting the idea of parent, of Father, and showing us the possibility of a relationship of such love with the God who made us, a Father better than any earthly father or parent we’ve ever known.

And when Jesus rises from the dead, Luke tells us of his efforts to show his followers that this is exactly the way of God and always has been, throughout Scriptures, and tells them that they will be sent to witness to this love, this grace, this Good News for the world.

So for Luke, Jesus’ identity as the Son of God, affirmed by angels and by Jesus himself, gives us confidence that his revelation of the truth about God is valid and true. We can trust what he says about the heart of God because of who he is. At age 12, and even after he has risen from the dead, Jesus, shaped by his identity as Son of God and close to the Father’s heart, teaches us how to see and know God.

But Luke also believes that this parentage is ours to claim as well, through the work of the Holy Spirit.

Just as Jesus was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit, so we are born anew by the work of the Spirit. This is another connection linking the theology of Luke and John, where what Jesus claims in the encounter with Nicodemus in John 3 is exactly what happens in Acts 2 when Luke tells of the gift of the Spirit at Pentecost to all the believers. So when we look at this little boy speaking with great confidence about God’s Word to aged teachers, and we see his identity as Son of God, we are seeing also our possibility, our potential, our call.

So here is what we have: Luke wrote a Gospel to tell the world of the coming of the Son of God, conceived by the Spirit, revealing the heart of God to us and living it fully in his life and teachings, his death and resurrection.

And he wrote the sequel, Acts, to tell the world that we all, through the power of the Holy Spirit, can be born as children of God ourselves, and so, too, can fully live God’s way in our life, our teaching, our witness, our love, our action in the world.

And that’s part of Paul’s grace in this reading from Colossians.

Paul urges the believers to be clothed in Christ, clothed in the way of the Son of God.

The two boys of our readings this morning embody what Paul is talking about. We talked about Hannah and Mary near the end of Advent; now we see their sons as young boys, and what we see is that they are so embued with the Word of God, so shaped by their relationship with the Father, that it flows in their words, actions, life.

And people notice. Even teachers of God’s law. Both Samuel and Jesus are described as growing up in divine and human favor. People saw these boys, even before they were fully grown, and saw the hand of God in them, saw who they were, and were admiring of them. As was the LORD God, according to both 1 Samuel and Luke.

And Paul joins Luke in urging that we be open to the same possibility. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, Paul says, like Samuel and Jesus. Have this word so deeply embedded in you, Paul says, it shapes you into godly people.

It’s like putting on new clothes that make you and me look different. So we are to clothe ourselves with all these characteristics of God’s love that shaped Jesus, and so can shape us. Compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Forgiveness and love.

The model of Samuel, and even more importantly, Jesus, is that if we devote ourselves to understanding God’s Word for our lives it will, through the work of the Spirit, shape us and make us children of God. So that, in fact, we live into our true inheritance as children of our heavenly Father.

The remarkable thing about Luke’s message is not that Jesus was remarkable, though that’s important. He was the Son of God, and lived it fully, even at twelve. So much so that he could confidently speak with elderly teachers and teach them. So much so that he, even before his ministry began, could confidently claim God as his Father.

But the truly remarkable thing is that Luke claims we have the same inheritance, the same possibility to be remarkable ourselves. The child Jesus begins to teach us today, and we will continue to learn this from him throughout his ministry and throughout our lives, of the true nature of God and God’s love for us and the world. And in inviting us to claim God as our Father, he invites us be like him, to witness by our lives, our wisdom, our love, to the same relentless love of God who searches for ever more lost ones to welcome home.

This is our joy this morning: that we can also, like Jesus, be about our Father’s business.

Because we know, through him, and with the help of Luke, that God the Father is our Father as well, that we belong to God in love that cannot die, love that will always forgive, love that will always welcome us back.

But also we know this from Jesus, that we also can be and need to be about our Father’s business. We have a calling, a job, a life to live, shaped by this identity, clothed in the way of Christ, in compassion, kindness, forgiveness, patience, to continue Jesus’ witness to the world the truth about the God who created all things and loves all things.

I like to think that Joseph understood this, too. That he saw himself through this boy he held as a baby, saw himself as a child of the heavenly Father, who also had an inheritance to claim and live. But whether he did or not, that is our gift from this boy Jesus this morning, and for the rest of our lives. May our God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit so move in us and shape us into our identity that we, too increase in wisdom and stature and so reflect the truth of God’s love to a world deeply in need of it.

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

The Triune God’s song has been playing since the beginning of time. John tells us that Jesus has always been a part of that song, and through this child who came to came to us in a manger, we learn to sing along.Vicar Neal Cannon, The Nativity of Our Lord (Day); texts: John 1:1-14

Sisters and Brothers in Christ, grace and peace to you in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

“In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, ‘Let there be light’; and there was light. And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.”

The phrase, “In the beginning” is all over the Bible, but only two books in the Bible begin with this phrase. They are Genesis one, which I have just read to you, and the Gospel of John. Genesis tells us that God created the heavens and the earth with God’s Word. I like to imagine God’s word being a song. And that Song creates light, and life. And I quote this because this is the image that John wants us to have for Jesus when we read our gospel lesson.

John wants us to know who this Jesus person is. He wants us to know his song.

In the Jewish tradition, the infinite Word of God is contained in the Torah, the first five books of the Bible, and the Torah is the centerpiece of the Jewish faith. Now, the Torah contains 613 laws and rules for living interwoven with the stories of faith and history of the Jewish people.

So for the Jewish people, the Torah is the centerpiece of faith, it’s the tune that they sing to. It’s the song that they sing. The Torah is the Word of God, and the Word of God brings light and life into the world as in the Genesis story.

And now John comes along, and he makes a new claim, or rather, a very old claim. He writes, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” John’s claim, the Christian claim, is that Jesus is the Word of God, and the Word of God brings light and life into the world.

So according to John, in Jesus all the law, the prophets, and the history of Jewish people are contained within Jesus. Jesus becomes the centerpiece of faith, the tune to which we sing and orient our lives.

Jesus is the Word of God made flesh. This claim is incredibly important because it tells us who Jesus is and that helps us perceive God in a new way.

The traditional way we perceive God is through Scripture. When I was researching for this sermon I came across an article from a Jewish scholar on the incarnation of God. Now, incarnation comes from the Latin word, incarnatus, which essentially means in the flesh, in caro (flesh).

The scholar who wrote the article was making the case that for the Jewish people, God becomes incarnate when we study and learn Torah. The more we learn, the more knowledge we have, the more God’s Word becomes incarnate in our life. It helps us to see things in a new way that we haven’t necessarily seen before. As Christians, we make the same claim about Jesus in scripture. Jesus is the Word of God incarnate from the beginning.

But how can this be? How could Jesus have been there all along?

Think about it this way, is there a song you’ve heard a hundred times and then all of a sudden you notice something new about that song you’ve never noticed before? When I was a kid, I used to swear that the song had changed in some way. But over time, I realized that I was hearing it in a new way. Before it was background music, but now new part of the song emerged and it changed the way I heard the music.

I think John is saying that Jesus is like this. He says that Jesus is like the part of the song that nobody noticed before, and when Jesus comes into the world, at first it seems like a new thing. But what John is saying is that Jesus has always been there, and has always been a part of God’s song.

John goes on to tell us that this song takes on flesh.

Jesus is the Word of God incarnate, literally in the flesh. He writes, “And the Word became flesh and lived among us.” If the Word lives among us, then the Word of God is not just something we study or hear. The Word of God is a child that came to us in a manger that lives and acts in this world, a person that creates light and life. In other words, the Song is life.

Jesus is life.

You wouldn’t know it by looking at me now, but as a kid, I didn’t particularly like going to church. It was a chore to get me out the door. I whined, I pouted, I kicked at things, and generally I tested my parent’s patience at every turn.

To me church was a lot of words that blended together. We read the Word of God, we sang the Word of God, and every Sunday, we listened to the Word of God in one really long boooring sermon. Some days it was all I could do to keep my adolescent brain from exploding and running out the back doors to play basketball, go skiing, or sometimes just sleep in the car.

But there was one part about church that I used to always love and still do to this day. That part of church was communion, the Eucharist. It was always odd to me because almost without fail, after taking communion, I felt alive, I felt new.

So I’d get in line, and here the words, “body of Christ, given for you, blood of Christ, shed for you.” And after receiving the Eucharist, I’d feel, new, better, lighter than before.

Then I’d sit down and I’d tap my little sister on the shoulder and look away, she’d laugh. My brother would step on my foot, and we’d smile, and laugh together. All the while my parents did what they could to hush us up, but even they couldn’t help joining in. Our whole family seemed lighter afterwards as the worries of the morning washed away. And for whatever reason, I’d leave church as if I’d loved the whole experience all along.

It’s like I was hearing a totally new song.

Now, I have a lot of theories on why this is. The first theory that I adopted was because the Eucharist, is at the end of the service. And I knew that we were almost done. So close to freedom!

While there might be an element of truth to that the more I thought of it, the more I realized there were other reasons why I loved communion. I found, and still find, that the Eucharist is the tangible part of the service. It’s the part of the service that you could touch, and taste, and hold in your hand. It requires nothing of you but to receive.

Later, my theological training in seminary would teach me that this experience was the Word of God coming to me, and giving me life. But growing up, I just knew it as that feeling of being made new. Or as John would say, being born-again.

Throughout the Gospel of John, the idea that Jesus is the Word of God is weaved through the narrative. Later in John Jesus says, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live for ever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

I think what I encountered in the Eucharist growing up is this very principle that the Word of God gives us life. I was hearing the song through the bread and wine. As I grew older I learned to appreciate how the sermon, and music, and liturgy dwell in us and give us life in the same way that I received it in the Eucharist. But at the time, the Eucharist was the way that God came to me and made me new.

“Body of Christ, given for you. Blood of Christ, shed for you.”

I love this idea because that means that the Word of God is not just about words. Like we experience in the Eucharist, the Word of God is something tangible that we can hold on to. It’s a tune that’s carried in our arms as well as our hearts and minds.

On Christmas Eve, we are especially reminded of this, as Mary carries this Song of God, not only in the Magnificat, but also in her arms as she holds Jesus.

I like to imagine Mary holding the Song of God in her arms, caring for him, feeding him, and singing him a lullaby as he cries. I like to imagine Mary being in awe of her son’s song as he sang it with his life. I also imagine that Mary sang a song of lament as Jesus hung on the cross.

In the Eucharist, we participate in this song. We hold the body of Christ in our hands. We remember his life, death, and resurrection and in that we are connected to Word of God that gives us life, the beginning of all things. And we like Mary, become, intimately connected to the Song as we learn to sing along. As John says, we become God’s children. We are connected to the Song that was in the beginning all things.

And as we learn to sing God’s song, the Song becomes incarnate in us.

Have you ever been in a situation where a friend or family member is sharing a deep and personal truth? Maybe they’ve just revealed to you that they are dying or admitting they have an addiction. When we are able to sit there, and comfort them, and support them, we’re singing God’s song.

Sometimes we don’t have to say a thing. Sometimes a hug, or tear, or just your presence is enough to assure someone that God’s song is playing in the background.

It also doesn’t have to be a sad situation. Maybe someone is telling you for the first
time that they are getting married or they just got an A on their test or they just got a big
promotion. Sharing joy together is an experience of incarnation as well. It’s another way to sing.

That’s what Jesus is for us in the incarnation. He’s a song that comes to us as a child in a manger, as bread and wine, and gives us the Word of God without saying anything. Jesus gives us his presence. And through this experience of the bread and wine we are given a new light and life to see and experience the world.

So who is Jesus? He is the fulfillment of the law and the prophets. Jesus is the Word of God incarnate. Jesus is light and life. Jesus is the bread and wine. But most of all, Jesus is the song that that has been playing since the beginning of time. Let us sing along.

Monday, December 24, 2012

The true plan of God, the revelation of which has begun at Christmas, is incredibly risky, and with our chaos and tumult and desire for other ways, we might miss it. But it is the only way to true peace on earth.Pr. Joseph G. Crippen, Eve of the Nativity of Our Lord; text: Luke 2:1-20

Sisters and brothers, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

There has been much conversation and concern among Christian clergy in the past weeks over how to welcome Christmas into a world which also carries within it the death of innocent children, not just in Connecticut but daily all over this planet, though the events of the past weeks have pushed the concern to the forefront. This world seems as brutal as it always has been, and though we claim “peace on earth” tonight and for the next weeks, we find precious little peace in our world or in our hearts.

It is one of the deepest challenges to the Christmas proclamation, and not just this year. If this celebration is merely a denial of the world’s reality, a chance for us to come inside and be mesmerized by beautiful things and sing wistfully of peace, while the war and pain rages on outside, if our Christmas joy is not capable of addressing the real world problems that were in our newspapers this morning and most certainly will be in them again tomorrow morning, we really ought to stop doing it. How we face that challenge, that 2,000 years of time have come and gone since the birth of the One we call Prince of Peace, and still it seems to be the same as it always has been, that’s our concern.

There is a carol which powerfully addresses this concern, but not if we sing it from our worship book. Or even from the former green book. Only if we open the old, red book does it help us. Because the last two editions of Lutheran worship books from our tradition have omitted a key stanza.

This carol is actually one Lutherans have struggled with somewhat, because it never mentions Jesus’ birth. It was written by an American Unitarian, Edmund Sears, and though it is immensely popular in the culture, many older Lutheran books omitted it. The carol is “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear,” and all it talks about is the angels’ song, not Jesus. But not every hymn needs to speak every truth we believe, and there is something powerful going on in this carol which spoke to me a great deal in these past weeks. That is, if you sing all five stanzas.

It’s powerful, because this is the angels’ song the carol keeps mentioning: “Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth.” That’s what the angels sang. Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth. That’s what the coming of the Son of God is to bring. There is little else we could hope for from God more needed, more desperately wanted, than that peace on earth. And that, the carol sings about.

But listen to the missing words:
Yet with the woes of sin and strife the world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not the love song which they bring . . .

For 2,000 years the world has suffered with sin and strife, in spite of the angels’ song of peace, that’s what that stanza sings. And that is the struggle we have with Christmas. No matter how much peace we find in here tonight, the real world rages on. As if nothing has happened, or will happen.

Tonight we need more than ever to know the truth about what God is really giving us, a truth that is strong enough to carry us through all the bleak midwinters of this world, not just one night a year of the magic of a baby in a manger.

A point to start is the question that need implies: What is it that you want from God at Christmas?

We often pin so many hopes and dreams on Christmas. We hope that our families will all be together, that we all get along, that we find peace in our lives, peace in our hearts, rest for our spirits.

And we hope for more than just ourselves. We hope that the pain we see in the world will lessen, that we will find real peace on this earth. That God’s coming is making a difference.

There is reason for us to expect that. We hear such promises of what we will receive that we can’t help believing them. Listen to Isaiah tonight: endless peace will come, with justice and righteousness. Listen to the angels tonight: peace on earth, good will to all.

But for us, we who will open newspapers tomorrow or watch the news again, we who go back to our own lives, it’s hard to maintain hope in these being fulfilled. We face massacres here and abroad, and wars here and abroad, all on top of our own difficulties and struggles. And we thought that Christmas meant God was doing something about that. That’s what we sing and say, anyway.

But here’s the question: what if God is doing something different than we wanted or expected? What if Christmas tells us that God’s answer to the evil and pain of this world is not what we thought it would be, but something else? If that’s true, that’s something we ought to know.

We should pay attention, because it’s clear that what we think we want is not what we get.

The Messiah we get at Christmas isn’t the Messiah we thought we wanted.

We often talk about how Jesus was not the Messiah everyone wanted or expected in his day. Some expected an earthly king. Others a revolutionary. Others a priest-like person who didn’t associate with the kinds of people Jesus did. In the end, Jesus was rejected by the leaders of his people as not being the Anointed of God. He wasn’t what they wanted.

The truth is, we’re in the same boat. We love the Christmas story. We’re amazed that the people of Jesus’ day couldn’t see he was truly God’s Son, the Messiah.

But we don’t love the implications of what Jesus’ birth as a human child means for how the world works. What we get in the baby in the manger isn’t what we want for our everyday lives, or for the world. We think we’d rather have a God who intervened a little more often. It turns out, we still think that God’s Messiah ought to be and act like the people of Jesus’ day thought. We’re in full agreement with them.

The real truth about Christmas is this: it is a foolish, risky plan of God. That’s what is so hard for us, why we can’t see the hope in what God did in that manger 2,000 years ago. When we think about the problems of the world that are so huge, and ask, “Why doesn’t God do something about that?” we are saying that we don’t like what God did at Christmas.

Listen: when Jesus was born in a manger in Bethlehem, the amazing thing was not the star. Not the angels. Not the shepherds. Not the beautiful music, if there was any. No, the amazing, risky, foolish thing is that God risked the salvation of the entire world on becoming one of us in this child, who would grow not to take over the world and fix it by force, but grow to lead the world back into obedience to God and love of God and neighbor.

This world is incredibly dangerous for children, we know that all too well. So from the start, God’s plan was a gamble. But even when Jesus grew up, the plan was a tremendous risk, this plan to lead us back to God instead of forcing us.

Do you see it? God, the creator of the universe, decided not to force us to be good, but to lead us to be good. The stakes are high: God is hoping that it will work, but it’s entirely possible that we’ll all keep being evil, and the world never gets better.

And for 2,000 years that has seemed to have happened. But as the hymnwriter said, the problem is not that the angels’ song is wrong, or that the promise is false.

It is that “man, at war with man” (not the language we use for humanity anymore, and probably the reason the stanza was omitted from our books, since there’s no way to poetically re-write it using five syllables and still have such a powerful and succinct summary of the truth), the problem is that we are at war with ourselves, with each other, with our own kind so much, that we cannot hear the song of peace and love God is giving us. The noise of our chaos, our fighting, our self-centeredness overwhelms the song of the angels. Our need for God to be what we want God to be closes our ears to hearing what God is actually doing.

But here is also the truth: for 2,000 years, God’s plan has been working, as well, slowly but surely.

Peace has spread, as promised, but not by force. Through love of one person for another, through the Spirit that the risen Messiah gives us. Exactly as God hoped would happen when he came in person to live with us, teach us, love us, lead us.

And frankly, from a human view, it is inefficient, it’s costly, it’s risky, and it’s just plain crazy. It would have been cleaner and neater for God to just take over the world and bring peace by force. And some days, in the real world, we wish God would do that. Only that wouldn’t bring about the peace God truly hopes for and wants.

God actually wants people to willingly follow, willingly obey, willingly love. And so God’s Son was born to us. To teach us, to show us God’s love, and a way to live. To die and rise to break sin and death’s power over us.

Our Christmas gift from God is not that this is a beautiful story. It is that it is life for us. The true beauty of this Christmas Eve is not in the sweet story or sweet music. It is that God has come to be in our hearts, to live with us and change us. To bring peace to our lives and our world through you and through me.

And that is a reality that lasts far beyond this night. That is a gift of love and peace, of transformation, that will carry us through the rest of our lives, until we can sing with the angels ourselves. A gift that has the strength to face the suffering and evil of this world and transform it into the peace on earth God has always intended.

So, did you get what you wanted from God this Christmas?

Maybe not, if you wanted God to use power to bring peace to your life and to the world. But you got what you needed: God’s power in you, God’s love in your life, God’s will to guide you. And that is what is most important.

Listen again to the missing stanza, this time with the last line included:
Yet with the woes of sin and strife the world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not the love song which they bring:
O hush the noise, ye men of strife, and hear the angels sing.

What is Mr. Sears’ answer for us tonight? Hush the noise, all you in strife, and hear the angels sing. Hush the noise of our complaining that God doesn’t come and listen to the joy that God is already here. Hush the noise of our struggling with our own selves and with others, the noise of our self-centeredness, the noise of our shouting at each other, the noise of our hatred, the noise of our wars, the noise of our fears, hush all that noise, and listen to the peace that God is giving us.

We didn’t get what we thought we wanted. But we got what we needed. So let’s hush our noise, and hear the angels sing. They have something very important to say.

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Mary sings of the coming of God’s reign as if it is a complete overturning of the world and our lives, which frightens us at times, but we are reminded that, like times of pregnancy, we wait for God’s coming and healing with fear but ultimately joy.Pr. Joseph G. Crippen, Fourth Sunday of Advent, year C; text: Luke 1:39-55

Sisters and brothers, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

On the First Sunday of Advent I preached that we should be careful what we pray for when we pray, “Come, Lord Jesus,” because we just might get it. If we’re asking God to come and change the world, God will also change us, something for which we might not be ready. At one point that week I thought the sermon would go further down that path, and get into some specific concerns I personally had with the coming of God as promised, bringing justice and peace. As it turned out, the sermon didn’t go fully in the direction I expected. But now, as this Gospel reading came into our Advent this year, those concerns moved back to the front of my mind.

It’s because of Mary’s song, the Magnificat, which we sang and now just heard read.

I love Mary’s song. I just don’t know if I can or should sing it anymore. I’ve always loved this canticle, and the many beautiful musical settings of it. But this week it occurred to me that maybe I shouldn’t sing it. Not if I want to have integrity. Not if I value honesty. Because there is at least a part of me that isn’t sure I want these things to happen, these things Mary sings about so boldly, so beautifully.

And it also seems to me that I can only speak for myself here. There are parts of this song that appear to strike me very close to home. But for me to take that and assume you all share those concerns or sins, or worse, to turn it into a harangue against all of us, feels unfair. So this is going to be an odd sermon, in that what I think I need to do is invite you into my thoughts to hear them as you will, and then you all can see if they’re helpful or instructive for you, if the Holy Spirit has words for you in all this.

Because I really would like to sing Mary’s song again. And my hope this Advent truly is that God will make that possible for me, and also for you, even if I think I’m resistant to that.

My first problem is this: I’m not certain that I want Mary to be right in what she says.

Listen to her sing: “God has scattered the proud in their conceit; God has cast down the mighty from their thrones; and lifted up the lowly; God has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.”

And as I think about those words, I begin to wonder if I really want that to happen. Mary’s describing something that sounds very much like a revolution, the world turned upside down. The whole social order will be transformed: rulers will be thrown down, people in the lowest places lifted up. The rich will have nothing and the poor will be fed. The proud will have their thoughts scattered in the wind, for they will have nothing to be proud of.

This is the language of almost every revolution. There was an English song from the mid-1600s called “The World Turned Upside Down,” and tradition says that the British army played it a century later at Yorktown when Cornwallis surrendered to Washington. They couldn’t believe they’d lost; it felt as if literally everything was upside down, the whole world overturned.

In our current political climate, there are some groups in our society who would scream “socialism” or “communism” to hear Mary’s hopes laid out in modern terms. They might be the most honest of all, because she is describing a world turned upside down, a revolution led by God. There’s no other way to see her words, her hopes.

Now, if you are poor, or lowly, or humble, or hungry, this probably sounds like really good news. But I don’t know if I want it to happen fully. Or, at least I know I’m a little afraid of it.

Because, and I know I’ve said this before, I think that I’m one whom Mary would call rich. Mind you, I don’t usually think of myself as rich. But I can’t escape the facts.

A couple weeks ago – and be prepared, this is shocking – a couple weeks ago there was a day when I didn’t get to have lunch until about 2:00 in the afternoon. And as I left the office I thought to myself, “I’m starving to death.” Now, that’s kind of funny. But it’s also pathetic and ridiculous, if you take the time to think about it. I’ve never been forced to miss a meal in my life, never had a day where I worried about what I would eat.

I’ve always had at least two or more good pairs of shoes, a good coat, warm clothes, shelter. I have a house, a stereo, TVs, several cars, a healthy family with a good medical plan and good life insurance. I live better than 99% of the world. Of course I’m rich. And for that matter, Mary would probably also count me among the proud and the mighty.

So if Mary’s hope is that God’s going to overturn it all, I stand to lose. Now, there are millions starving to death who will gain considerably. Millions of suffering people, poor people, oppressed people. And that’s good. But we know that our lifestyle in the U.S. cannot be sustained world-wide. It’s inevitable that my lifestyle will decrease in a new divine order, so that others might simply have life.

Now, I know this, too: I give to Lutheran World Relief, to ELCA World Hunger. I give a tithe of 10% to God’s work here at Mount Olive, and more beyond. I recycle and try not to waste. I turn off lights. I’m doing things. It’s just that I really don’t know if I want to lose everything about the style of life to which I am accustomed.

So I’m torn between wanting God to do what Mary says, and not wanting God to do it. It’s one of those common things in life, that we vacillate between what we know to be good and holy and what our human nature would prefer. Paul talks about that a lot in Romans 7, of course.

So I know that this is good, what Mary promises, and that in the long run it’s crucial to the life of this world. But there’s that sinful part of me that wants to resist.

But there’s a second problem I have with her song: I wonder if God will ever do it anyway.

Has there been any progress toward this kind of vision? Ever? Not if tens of thousands still die of hunger each day. And they do.

Hannah, the prophet Samuel’s mother, sang virtually the same song 1,100 years before Mary. Look it up: 1 Samuel 2. And nothing changed. Then Mary sang it. And now 3,100 years after Hannah and 2,000 years after Mary, still nothing.

Still there are rich and poor. Still people like me watching their weight while others starve to death. Still proud oppressors and beaten-down oppressed.

After awhile, maybe I should get the hint, and realize it’s not happening. The inevitable question I ask is: were these just nice, beautiful songs, or did these articulate, musical women actually believe they would come to pass?

So I don’t know if I can sing her song anymore if I don’t think it’s any more than hyperbole of joy over the birth of a child, the catalyst for both Hannah’s and Mary’s songs. I don’t know if I can sing their songs if I don’t actually expect God will do this thing. It doesn’t feel any more honest than singing it if I don’t want God to do these things.

And then, thinking about all this, I realized something interesting: there is a thread that connects Hannah and Mary beyond their songs, and also connects to today’s other wonderful woman, Elizabeth. Pregnancy. Mary and Elizabeth in our Gospel today are pregnant, and Hannah had finally given birth to a child after years of waiting.

And that image of pregnancy, an experience I have only ever lived second hand (except, I suppose, for my own birth) seemed to give me an answer.

It is for me, and perhaps for you, too, as if I am, we are, pregnant.

My fears and struggles with Mary’s song are very much like the fears and struggles of pregnancy. Even with the most wanted birth, pregnancy is frightening.

There is fear of the outcome: Will this be a healthy baby, a happy baby? Just as I fear the outcome of God’s transformation: will it be a good place, a place of joy even for me?

There is fear of the change in life: Even if the baby is healthy, wanted, hoped for, there is this reality that the parents’ lives will irrevocably change. Their lifestyle will move from self-centered to other-centered. They will sacrifice many things for their child, and that’s frightening. Just as I fear that if God does bring about this change, my life will irrevocably change as well. I will sacrifice, I will not have the same lifestyle.

And there is fear of the delay: Every pregnant mother I have known, including the mother of my children, has had impatience at some point, or some variation of the fear at least once during the pregnancy that this birth will never happen, that she will be the first woman in history to carry a child for years. Just as I fear that God may never bring about this age of equality, of peace, of shared wealth. The difference is one of time, nine months versus several millennia. But in God’s eyes, is that such a temporal difference?

And as in pregnancy, all these fears subside when one considers the end result: a miraculous gift of life. Whether you are old like Elizabeth, long-suffering like Hannah, or barely out of childhood like Mary.

And so my fears begin to subside when I realize that I really do want God’s new kingdom, regardless of the cost to me. That the alternative is much worse than any fears I might have.

And there is one more thing to remember. Something has changed, with this baby of 2,000 years ago. The baby of whom Mary sang, her son Jesus, did in fact live a life that revealed that transformed kingdom of God his mother envisioned. He died for it, as a matter of fact.

But his resurrection began the process of transformation for us all. It has already turned the world upside down. In his life, and ever since, whoever met Jesus and followed began to live transformed lives, and changed the world.

Zacchaeus spontaneously returned all he had cheated, and more.

Matthew left his tax booth, Peter his fishing, and both brought the Good News to the world.

Mary Magdalene lost her demons and began to be a disciple, and was the first apostle, the first one sent to proclaim the resurrection.

Martin Luther King started a revolution. Mother Teresa cared for thousands in one of the worst places in the world. And millions more lesser-known disciples were shaped by the sacrificial love of Jesus which enfolded them and made a difference in this world, began working Mary’s vision in the world.

And so God works this change now. As we each meet Jesus in his Word, in this Meal, in our lives, Jesus changes us. We begin to live lives that reflect Mary’s vision.

More and more we do not fear losing our lifestyle because we have gained so much more: the peace of a heart that trusts in God alone, and sees the pain of the world with God’s loving, compassionate eyes. A peace that longs for the world to be turned upside down, even if that means I who am on the top am also turned over.

So as it turns out, I not only can sing with Mary, I really want to.

And I invite you to sing with her as often as you can. Share her pregnancy as an image of our life here, waiting, afraid, expectant, hopeful, nervous.

For God has come to make things new. In our pregnant lives, this is already happening. The gift the Church gives in Advent each year is to remind us of what we already know but sometimes forget, and to help us find our desire for it anew. God give us faith to hold this hope, and live changed lives, until the day of the birth of this new thing God is making in us and in the world.

Friday, December 21, 2012

I think the assignment for this week’s “Accent on Worship” is to reflect on Christmas, as this issue of the Olive Branch is the last to go out before our celebration of the birth of our Lord Jesus. But it is still only the Monday of the third week of Advent, and given what happened in Connecticut last week, I’m reluctant to leave Advent just yet. This Sunday we will have a foretaste of Christmas, as we hear of Mary’s visit to Elizabeth during their pregnancies, John the infant’s leaping in recognition of his holy cousin, and we will continue with Mary’s song of praise and hope, the Magnificat. It will still be Advent, but it will feel as if we’re already leaning toward Monday and Tuesday’s celebration.

But I am, as I said, reluctant to go there yet. Because Advent is a season which speaks to the realities of this world in which we live and helps us navigate through the darkness. It points to the light, to the coming of Jesus into the world then, now, and in times to come, and that is a good thing. But Advent speaks to our hearts in a time when that coming seems far too distant in either direction to have an impact, times when the darkness seems to be able to overcome the light. As we despair over the senseless deaths, are frustrated by our nation’s continuing unwillingness to join every single one of our fellow Western, developed nations in having real control of guns in this country and thereby enjoy their much-reduced rates of gun-related deaths, and are deeply saddened and grieving once more to face the mass death of children and teachers, Advent speaks to our hearts.

We had planned last Sunday’s worship well before the shootings at the elementary school, and didn’t change the service. We had planned to come and worship God last Sunday, using the readings for the Third Sunday of Advent, and singing hymns which reflected those readings, Advent hymns which we sing every year, and so that is what we did. And yet, this is the gift of the Church, the gift of Advent to me, and I suspect to many who gathered Sunday, that what we sang and heard powerfully spoke to where we were. We sang a plea that we see the coming of Jesus bring light to a world seemingly steeped in impenetrable darkness: “Our hope and expectation, O Jesus, now appear; arise, O Sun so longed for, o’er this benighted sphere” (ELW 244). We sang hope that our Lord indeed comes “the broken heart to bind, the bleeding soul to cure” (ELW 239). And we sang this promise: “In darkest night, his coming shall be, when all the world is despairing, the morning light so quiet and free, so warm and gentle and caring. Then shall the mute break forth in song, the lame shall leap in wonder, the weak be raised above the strong, and weapons be broken asunder” (ELW 242).

This is the gift of Advent, that we can name our fears alongside our hopes, name our longing and desire for God’s grace and life in spite of the way the world looks, name our desperate need for God’s coming in light and healing. When we celebrate our Lord’s birth next week, we will begin to celebrate how God has come and is coming, how that light makes a difference even in a world where children are killed. Because we do believe that the coming of the Son of God into the world is the beginning of the restoration of all things.

For now, I’m not ready to go there, not just yet. For now, I’m grateful for you all gathered in this place with me in Advent waiting, watching, hoping. Grateful for honesty about the brokenness of the world and our need for healing from God which our worship helps us find. And most of all, grateful that we belong to a God whose promised coming then, now, and in the future is already bringing about the healing that this world needs, if only we watch for it, and are a part of it. Advent helps us do just that.
Amen, come, Lord Jesus, we pray. For now, that’s enough.

Can You Help?
We've received a request for assistance from a former friend of Mount Olive, Joyce Davies-Venn. She and her husband, Emile, and their daughter, Ophelia, were part of the Mount Olive community for a few years; Ophelia was confirmed here in 2002. (Emile's sister, Caroline Roy-Macauley, was very active at Mount Olive at that time. They have all since moved away, Caroline to England and the Davies-Venns to Georgia.) Some may remember this family, they were immigrants from Sierra Leone, West Africa.

Emile died unexpectedly last May, as a result of complications from surgery, and Joyce is struggling in Atlanta with the financial burden this has placed on her. Their daughter, Ophelia, recently graduated from college with a degree in social work, but has been unable to find work to help support herself and her mother. Joyce has contacted Mount Olive to ask if we can provide any financial assistance at all.

If you can help and wish to make a contribution, please make your donation payable to Mount Olive and clearly designate on the envelope or in the memo line that the gift is for "Joyce Davies-Venn." Mount Olive will pass along to Joyce whatever is received in the next couple of weeks.

Conference on Liturgy: Jan. 18-19, 2013
By now you should have received the brochure for this year’s Conference on Liturgy, to be held January 18-19, 2013. The theme of this year’s conference is, “The Green Altar: Liturgy as Care for the Earth.”

The conference begins with a hymn festival on Friday, January 18, at 7:30 p.m. Leadership for the hymn festival this year will be by the Mount Olive Cantorei, Cantor David Cherwien, and the Rev. Dr. Paul Westermeyer.

Please note that the cost for Mount Olive members to attend this year’s conference is $35/person.

Out of Darkness
All are invited to attend the annual candlelight vigil, “Out of Darkness,” for child victims of war, on the Feast of the Holy Innocents, December 28, 2012, at 6:30 p.m. This vigil is hosted by the Twin Cities Peace Campaign at St. Joan of Arc Catholic Church, 4537 3rd Ave. S., Minneapolis. This moving and beautiful service has become part of the Christmas tradition for many local many Christians.

Olive Branch Publication Schedule
Please note that there will be no Olive Branch published during the week between Christmas and New Year. Weekly publication will resume on January 4, 2013.

Many Thanks!
Thanks to the following people who pitched in – sometimes weekly - to help with all of the custodial duties while our Sexton, William, was recuperating from surgery. They ably covered all sorts of tasks from event set-up/tear-down, snow removal, restroom cleaning, dust mopping, vacuuming, dusting, changing light bulbs, yard clean up, boiler maintenance, recycling and trash removal, and sanctuary cleaning.

Every Church a Peace Church
Mount Olive will host the next monthly potluck meeting of Every Church a Peace Church on January 14, 2013, beginning at 6:30 p.m. The speaker for this meeting will be Dr. Charles Amjad-Ali, Martin Luther King, Jr., Prof. of Justice and Christian Community at Luther Seminary in Saint Paul. He will address the topic, "Peace from Below: Martin Luther King's Legacy and our Vocation."

Plan to come and give a warm Mount Olive welcome to visitors from various faith traditions and congregations and hear a highly informative presentation.

Book Discussion Group
Mount Olive’s Book Discussion group meets on the second Saturday of each month at 10:00 a.m. For the January 12 session, they will read Caleb's Crossing, by Geraldine Brooks. For the February 9 session they will read In the Company of the Courtesan, by Sarah Dunant. All readers welcome!

Thursday Evening Bible Study Returns January 3, 2013
Starting January 3 and running for six weeks, there will be a Thursday evening Bible study meeting in the Chapel Lounge from 6:00 p.m. to 7:30 p.m. Pr. Crippen will lead a six-week series titled “Captive Conscience” which focuses on reading the Bible, how we are shaped by God’s Word, and what lenses we use as we read the Scriptures.

As with last year, there will be a light supper when we begin. If anyone wishes to provide the first week’s meal, please let Pr. Crippen know. Looking ahead, in Lent Vicar Cannon will lead another six week study.

Reconciling in Christ Festival Worship
The Reconciling in Christ Program of ReconcilingWorks Twin Cities welcomes all people to join in their eighth annual Metro Area Festival Worship on Saturday, January 26, 2013, 4:30 p.m., at First Lutheran Church (463 Maria Avenue, Saint Paul). The service of Word and Sacrament celebrates the welcoming ministries of Metro area Lutheran churches. Rev. Anita Hill will preach.

The RIC program rosters Lutheran congregations that welcome and affirm LGBT persons in their full sacred worth. Both the Minneapolis and Saint Paul Area Synods are RIC Synods and together include dozens of RIC worship communities. A light supper will follow the service. All are welcome!

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Life in the kingdom of God, living as Jesus in the world, is joy for us, even if repentance and giving up of our sinful ways is the pathway to that joy, that new life Jesus gives.Pr. Joseph G. Crippen, Third Sunday of Advent, year C; texts: Luke 3:7-18; Zephaniah 3:14-20; Isaiah 12:2-6; Philippians 4:4-7

Sisters and brothers, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

I don’t much care for cauliflower, especially when it’s cooked. Or split-pea soup, for that matter. In this, my wife and I agree to disagree. In fact, the smell of those two foods cooking makes me queasy, uncomfortable. I lose my appetite. Yet I am told by people who should know that both these foods are good for me, healthy for me. They tell me that though this seems like a bad thing, it is a good thing.

That’s Luke’s job for us today. Did you hear what he said, after expounding at length the deeply angry rants of John the Baptist toward his hearers? Luke adds a phrase the other evangelists do not. He comments, “So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.” Good news you say, Luke? Must we go back and read those harsh words again?

Given my experience with foods I detest but which no doubt are good for me, I wonder if it might be possible that Luke is telling the truth. Granted, this second Advent Sunday in a row of hearing from John the Baptist is always a difficult one for us. Who wants to come to church and be called a “brood of vipers”?
But Luke says it’s good news. So let’s give him the benefit of the doubt for a moment.

It may be important to do this, if only for the sake of the other readings from God’s Word today, all of which speak beautifully to us of joy. And they don’t call sadness joy, they don’t do what Luke does. These readings positively radiate with joy. In a season of Advent which speaks of watching, preparing, being ready, the third Sunday of Advent is always about joy. A burst of joy and grace in a more contemplative, serious season, that’s Advent 3. But along with this, we get that John the Baptist. What in the world are we to do with him? His message of fire and axes and destruction sounds like an off-key screech in an otherwise exquisite choral song of joy.

He claims that the world is in dire need of repentance, that we each are in dire need. He warns that there are so many things that are not of God, that need changing, that the only answer is an utter turning around. And after the events of this past week in Connecticut, who among us would dare to contradict John’s evaluation?

So what in the world are we to do today? Do we talk of joy, or do we face John and his view of a broken world, the reality we see ourselves? Or do we consider that Luke might be right, that they’re the same thing? Can we find good news for us and for the world here?

Now, Zephaniah and Paul (and really the song from Isaiah we sang today) call us to jubilation, to joy, in God’s grace for us.

Zephaniah spoke in the time of King Josiah of Judah, and called for reform of the worship and faithfulness of the people. So much of his prophecy is warnings to the people to turn to God from their awful behavior and lives that in fact, it sounds a lot like John the Baptist.

But the section we hear today seems to come from later, from the time of exile, after the punishment. God promises to take away the shame and the judgments against God’s people, and God is in their midst. And the only thing to do is rejoice and exult at God’s grace and love.

Paul writes to perhaps his favorite congregation, his beloved Philippians, and urges them to rejoice always in all things, to give thanks even while they are making requests of God. And this joy is in living in Christ, having faith that God’s grace is ours.

This is the letter where Paul says he considers all things rubbish compared to knowing Christ, and that to live is Christ and to die is gain. For Paul, the joy comes from a life that models, as he says earlier in the letter, the life of Jesus, who gave up everything to be a servant to us.

So we notice this: even though Zephaniah and Paul speak of unadulterated joy which pervades our whole existence, they both come from a context where they understand our lives to have turned toward God and away from the things that draw us from God. They assume a life lived in God’s way, with God’s priorities.

In short, they are describing a life of repentance, a life where God’s people have turned from their sin and selfishness and have given their lives to God. And that actually sounds a lot like John the Baptist, doesn’t it?

Now, John sounds angry. He sounds terrifying, in spite of Luke’s editorial comment. Still, Luke says it: “So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.”

Good news, Luke calls it. For Zephaniah, the fact that God is in the midst of the people is a reason to end their shame, a reason for hope and joy.

John also says the Lord is near, but that means people need to shape up and change. He calls those who come for baptism “children of snakes” and asks who warned them to flee from God’s wrath which is coming. He says the axe is laid to the root of the tree that will not bear fruit, and it will be cut down.

For this to be good news, we need to understand a few things.

First, John apparently thinks that some of the crowds who have come are there just for the show, just for a ritual perhaps, thinking the baptism will fix what’s wrong with them, and they can go back to their lives. Sort of like coming to church week after week but not wanting to change anything about our lives or our choices. And at that John levels his angry rhetoric. So John wants the people to take this seriously and not look for easy ways out of their messy lives.

But another thing to remember is that John takes his role seriously, the preparer for the Messiah. And he sees people who live and create injustice, folks whose lives oppress others, whose lives don’t show the fruits of people who are turned toward God and God’s way. He sees a world that is out of balance, and a mess, one that needs serious cleansing.

And John’s only approach, the only thing he can think of, is to shock them out of complacency, to get them to take as seriously as he does the coming of the Messiah and their need to shape up. Because their joy will be found in the repentance, in the new life. Just as Zephaniah and Paul know, too.

The fruits of repentance John calls for are specific and concrete, each group gets a clear idea of what to do. Only Luke tells us this part of John’s message, and it’s critical to his understanding of why John’s preaching was good news.

Note first, that the people aren’t turned off by John’s rhetoric. They actually want to know what they can do to be different, to repent.

If you have two coats, and someone has none, give them one, John says.

If you have food, and others are hungry, share.

If you’re a tax collector and you’re charging extra to line your pockets, stop it.

If you’re a soldier and you’re extorting for money, stop that, too.

And the beauty of these examples is that it leaves us open to consider what John would say to us. Since each group had specific things they were doing to contribute to injustice and oppression and suffering, each had specific things to change. And so do we.

And the joy is found, the new life in Christ is found, when we discover those things and change them. When we turn to God. When we discover the joy of life lived for God and not ourselves.

Joy is found when people without coats have coats. When hungry people get to eat. When people who’ve been cheated are restored what is theirs. When children can live safely without fear of death or hunger or abuse. There’s the joy.

And there’s joy for us when we make that happen, when we are God’s agents for justice and peace.

This is the good news: true joy comes from facing the ugly truth about ourselves and finding God’s love healing us, restoring us.

We can be selfish people, and tend to care only for ourselves, and getting beyond ourselves, as John calls, turning to God and God’s way, is our way not only to joy but to life. To get to God’s joy, we have to go through John the Baptist and his truth, which cleans us and returns us to God.

Think of our good friend Ebenezer Scrooge, whose story hovers over this month each year. The spirits who visit him are his John the Baptist, helping him see the ugly truth that he had hurt others, shut off love from others, abused others, and wasted his life.

He starts to learn that he’d have been happier had he lived differently. Certainly others would have. So when he wakes on Christmas morning, he wakes to joy. Joy that he is still alive. Joy that he still has a chance. Joy that he has been forgiven. Joy that it is still Christmas Day, he hasn’t missed another opportunity to be gracious to others. So he brought joy to others in his new life, and he is filled with it himself.

In a life of repentance, with the Lord in our midst, near at hand, we, too, find joy.

Joy in loving others, not for its reward, but because it makes our heart grow.

Joy in caring for the children of God who are in need of our help, because it makes us alive and real.

Joy in being changed into new people by God who have a mission and a purpose in this world. And wonder of wonders, still enough time to do it. There’s still a chance to do something.

“So with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.”

I’m grateful that Luke helps us see this as good news. From here, we each might want to bring John the Baptist along into our day, our week ahead, and think what he might answer us when we say, “What should we do?” What is it that he would say hinders us from the joy of following Jesus? What is selfish in me, in you, that if we let it go we would find God’s joy? What are we doing that is not of God, that needs forgiveness and turning? What is God calling me, calling you, to be and to do? What is our call to make this world a better place, a just place, as God would have it? These are the questions we need to bring to John the Baptist, so that he can show us the path to joy.

This is the good news that Luke sees in John, the good news that belongs to all who hear these words from God’s servant: that though we are part of the problem of the world, and contribute in our selfishness to the very things Jesus came to remove and eliminate, we need not remain the problem. Rather, by turning our lives to God we become part of God’s solution, God’s grace, God’s love.

And if that doesn’t bring us all a little joy, we’re just not paying attention.

Friday, December 14, 2012

“I thank my God every time I remember you . . . I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ.” (Philippians 1:3, 6)

I’m not the best “waiter” in the world. I don’t mean the person who takes your order in a restaurant; I used to do that and was actually pretty good at it. I mean I don’t wait well. I can get impatient at times. But God has slowly been teaching me patience in my life and now I’ve come to value the perspective a little patience brings.

Advent is a time of waiting for the Church. It is a season where the Church has learned to practice patience, where the Church teaches patience to those of us who do not wait well. Patience as we wait for the Lord’s coming again. Patience as we wait for God to restore all things. Patience as we look for signs of the coming of God into a broken and evil world. Coinciding with the darkest time of the year, Advent also carries that sense of patience as we wait for God’s light to come into our darkness.

In the words of Paul above (which were actually from last Sunday’s readings), Paul is also waiting for something. He waits for the completion of God’s salvation among the Philippians, the shaping of these beloved friends of his into people of God, children of God who bear the mind and heart of Christ, who rejoice always, who give themselves for the sake of the world. People who pray with thanksgiving, and who keep their hearts and minds focused on what is good and excellent, people who welcome the peace of God into their lives, peace which surpasses all understanding. Paul believes that God is working this transformation on them and is confident it will be accomplished.

I would like God to finish me, to make me the person I’m meant to be, but I’d rather it happen sooner rather than later. I’d like to be the kind of people Paul sees in the Philippian congregation, but I’d like it to happen much more quickly than it seems to be happening. The Advent prayer that our Lord comes and re-makes us as a part of the healing of the world is one I deeply hope for. I’m just not eager to have it take the rest of my life.

So my prayer this Advent is for patience. According to Paul in his letter to the Galatians, patience is a spiritual gift, so the good news is we can pray for it. And so I do. This is my prayer for all of us at Mount Olive as well, that we might be given the gift of patience as we seek God’s grace and transformation as a congregation into the people of God we’re meant to be. Patience, as we wait for God to work through us and others to bring healing to the world. Patience, as we learn to trust God’s timing, and not ours.

Come, Lord Jesus, stir up your power and come. And give us patience as we wait for your coming to bless the world.

Special Congregation Meeting to be Held This Sunday, December 16, Noon

A milestone meeting of the congregation will be held in the Undercroft following the second liturgy on December 16 to receive and approve the work of the Capital Campaign Tithe Task Force. A total of 30 invitations were sent to not-for-profit organizations based on the recommendations of members/friends of the congregation, Neighborhood Ministries, and Missions committees. Twenty of these invitations resulted in requests for funding (26 projects totaling $217,560) from the remaining $91,000 of the tithe ($20,000 was already awarded to Lutheran Social Services for their Center for Changing Lives).

After a thorough review of the requests received using the process and criteria endorsed by the congregation, the Task Force recommended the distribution of remaining funds as outlined in the attachment/insert to the vestry who in turns recommends approval by the congregation.

Fair Trade Craft Sale – one more Sunday!

The Missions committee is hosting a Fair Trade Craft Sale during Advent. Purchase beautiful and unique Fair Trade items handmade by disadvantaged artisans in developing regions around the world. With each purchase, you help artisans maintain steady work and a sustainable income so they can provide for their families. Lutheran World Relief partners with SERRV, a nonprofit Fair Trade organization, to bring you the LWR Handcraft Project.

The crafts will be available for purchase after both services for one more Sunday, December 16 (cash and check only). See the separate attachment/insert to view some of the items that will be for sale. Fair trade coffee, tea, cocoa, and chocolate from Equal Exchange will also be available. This is not a fund-raiser, just an opportunity to buy good products for a good cause.

Book Discussion Group
Mount Olive’s Book Discussion group meets on the second Saturday of each month at 10:00 a.m. For the January 12 session, they will read Caleb's Crossing, by Geraldine Brooks. All readers welcome!

Alternative Gift Giving
Are you looking for something different to do this year for Christmas gifts? Take part in a growing tradition by giving gifts that help those in need. The Missions Committee is promoting the idea of alternative gift giving this Christmas. For example, in honor of a loved one, for $120 you can “buy” a stove for a family in Guatemala that provides a safer and more efficient way of cooking. We have catalogues from different charitable organizations that you can use or you can order from the organizations’ websites. Some of these organizations are:

All are invited to come to Christmas Day Eucharist an hour early for a Christmas breakfast together, beginning at 9:00 a.m. Bring a favorite breakfast or brunch dish to pass.

Thanks for Hurricane Sandy Donations

Thank you to those from Mount Olive who responded to the ELCA's call for donations to support those affected by Hurricane Sandy in the United States and internationally. Between donations received and the Missions Committee’s allocation of $250 from its discretionary funds, Mount Olive was able to provide $1,935 to the ELCA as it responds to those most in need. We have expedited this check to the ELCA so that our funds could be utilized immediately. The Missions Committee will continue to monitor the situation and will continue the congregation's contributions to Lutheran World Relief, which works for long-term support for challenged communities, including those affected by natural disasters.

Once again, thank you for helping Mount Olive support those in need in our neighborhood, our nation, and beyond.

Can You Help?

We've received a request for assistance from a former friend of Mount Olive, Joyce Davies-Venn. She and her husband, Emile, and their daughter, Ophelia, were part of the Mount Olive community for a few years; Ophelia was confirmed here in 2002. (Emile's sister, Caroline Roy-Macauley, was very active at Mount Olive at that time. They have all since moved away, Caroline to England and the Davies-Venns to Georgia.) Some may remember this family, they were immigrants from Sierra Leone, West Africa.

Emile died unexpectedly last May, as a result of complications from surgery, and Joyce is struggling in Atlanta with the financial burden this has placed on her. Their daughter, Ophelia, recently graduated from college with a degree in social work, but has been unable to find work to help support herself and her mother. Joyce has contacted Mount Olive to ask if we can provide any financial assistance at all.

If you can help and wish to make a contribution, please make your donation payable to Mount Olive and clearly designate on the envelope or in the memo line that the gift is for "Joyce Davies-Venn." Mount Olive will pass along to Joyce whatever is received in the next couple of weeks.

A Note from Our President

Dear fellow redeemed,
At the December meeting of the Vestry, we received our normal review of the previous month’s financial statements. Your directors have done an excellent job of managing expenses to the 2012 budget as approved by the congregation. In fact, spending is well below budgeted amounts for most areas. At the same time, we find that overall giving for general operating fund expenses has also been under what was projected for the approved budget. The net result is that, as of November 30, we have spent approximately $40,000 more in carrying on the various missions of Mount Olive than we have received.
Historically, the final weeks of the year have been a time when we see a surge in giving and some or even all of this shortfall may disappear naturally. However, rather than simply count on that being the case and in an effort to be forthcoming with the congregation, the Vestry decided to make you aware of where things currently stand financially. Ending the year in the black without making additional draws on our line of credit is our objective and making members and friends of Mount Olive aware of our current cash position is an important part of realizing this.
If your charitable giving plan includes additional contributions toward our shared work before year-end, thank you and God bless you for your faithfulness. Likewise, if you have been blessed in a way that allows you to consider doing more financially than you intended before year-end, again thank you and God bless you for your generous spirit.

Kind regards in Christ,
Adam Krueger, President
Mount Olive Vestry

Staff Gifts

Reminder: in order to be a part of this year's Christmas gifts from the Congregation to our Staff, contributions should be received no later than this Sunday, December 16. Thank you.

Conference on Liturgy: Jan. 18-19, 2013
By now you should have received the brochure for this year’s Conference on Liturgy, to be held January 18-19, 2013. The theme of this year’s conference is, “The Green Altar: Liturgy as Care for the Earth.”
The keynote speaker this year is the Rev. Dr. John Chryssavgis, special adviser on environmental issues to His Holiness Bartholomew I, the Ecumenical Patriarch.

The conference begins with a hymn festival on Friday, January 18, at 7:30 p.m. Leadership for the hymn festival this year will be by the Mount Olive Cantorei, Cantor David Cherwien, and the Rev. Dr. Paul Westermeyer.

Please note that the cost for Mount Olive members to attend this year’s conference is $35/person.

Out of Darkness
All are invited to attend the annual candlelight vigil, “Out of Darkness,” for child victims of war, on the Feast of the Holy Innocents, December 28, 2012, at 6:30 p.m. This vigil is hosted by the Twin Cities Peace Campaign at St. Joan of Arc Catholic Church, 4537 3rd Ave. S., Minneapolis. This moving and beautiful service has become part of the Christmas tradition for many local many Christians.

Olive Branch Publication Schedule
Please note that there will be no Olive Branch published during the week between Christmas and New Year. Weekly publication will resume on January 4, 2013.

Sunday, December 9, 2012

They say that Advent is a time of waiting, but what are we waiting for? God calls us to live here and now in this world, between the first and second advent of Christ, and is refining us right now so that we may joyously anticipate the coming of Christ.

Sisters and brothers, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Tick, Tock – Tick, Tock – Tick, Tock – Tick, Tock

What you’re hearing is the sound of a ticking clock that you only hear in the in-between moments; it’s the sound of waiting. It’s the sound of nervously waiting in the lobby of the dentist’s office. It’s the sound of joyous waiting on your couch before friends arrive for the party, and it’s the sound you hear in the quiet moments, when you clear your thoughts and take stock of your life.

They say that the Advent season is a time of waiting and anticipation for the birth of Jesus, the Son of God. Advent is the time where people put out their nativity scenes, and light candles, and if you grew up like me, you pop chocolates out of the advent calendar.

But these practices never really helped me understand Advent because we aren’t really waiting for a child in a manger anymore. Jesus was already born, it happened about 2,000 years ago. And of course we remember it and celebrate it, and we can even anticipate it, but we don’t really wait for it because it’s already come to us.

So what are we waiting for?

The term “advent” comes from the Latin word “adventus,” which means “coming.” And in the Christian faith we use this word to mean that we are anticipating the “advent” or coming of a Savior.

In our Gospel lesson today, Luke writes that John the Baptist is called to “prepare the way of the Lord,” and, “make his paths straight.” In other words, he is called to prepare people for the advent, or coming, of the Savior.

But here’s the thing. For us, this advent has happened. The Savior has come. Our salvation is complete. It was done once and for all for us through the cross and resurrection. There is no salvific work left to do.

And as Christians we claim that Jesus’ first advent was not only about salvation, but also about how we live now. It didn’t end all suffering, and pain, and sin. Jesus didn’t overthrow the powers of this world. But he showed us how to live our lives with love, and grace and compassion for our neighbor.

Luke says in our Psalm today that this salvation has left us “free to worship (God) without fear, holy and righteous before you, all the days of our life.”

In other words, because we’ve been made righteous we’re now free to worship and serve God without fear from our enemies; without fear of not being good enough; without the fear that if we don’t serve or worship God in just the right way, we won’t be saved.

So what are we waiting for?

We look around today and we see so much suffering, and pain, and sin in the world. People are starving to death. Women are being trafficked as slaves. Bloody wars occur all over the world and vicious dictators suppress their people. All the while our own apathy reminds us that sin remains.

But as we learned last week in Pastor Joseph’s sermon, we also we believe that Jesus will come again. There will be a second “advent” where Jesus will return to us to abolish sin and transform the world into a place of peace, and righteousness and justice.

But this advent is not here yet.

Right now we are waiting in-between these two advents. We celebrate the birth and first coming of Jesus into this world, but we also wait and anticipate when Jesus will return and end sorrow, and death, and sin.

This is the tension of Advent. Salvation is here but the world is not sinless. We celebrate what has come, and we anticipate what is coming, and we live somewhere in-between.

This is important for us today because it allows us to say both something true and hopeful about the world. It says that while the world isn’t there yet, that horrible things still occur, the Triune God has come to this world and to us and is working to make them better.

God’s continued work in the world is confirmed as Paul says in his letter to the Philippians, “I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ.” Notice that Paul doesn’t say that Jesus Christ has finished a work among you, or that there is some expectation that you are perfect now.

No, this work that Jesus does in our lives is just beginning. One day, during the second advent, that work will be complete. But for now, we say that work has just begun. And we wait.

For me, the question that still remains. What are we waiting for?

Tick, Tock – Tick, Tock – Tick, Tock – Tick, Tock

One kind of waiting is very difficult. It’s a nervous anticipation.

Imagine that you are waiting for your name to be called in a dentist’s office. You’re sitting nervously on an uncomfortable couch reading some innocuous magazine called Lifestyle.

You’re nervous because you've only flossed twice in the past six months, usually the day before, and you know you’re in for a physical and verbal assault on the gums.

It’s not the dentist’s fault. The dentist is there to remove the stains and cavities from your teeth. You know that. But in you heart, you know that if you had prepared yourself better for this day, it would have been less painful. And in your head you keep thinking, what was I waiting for?

It’s not that our intentions were bad. The last time we saw the dentist we swore we’d floss more, we just messed up the time in-between.

One night, we’re too tired to floss. Maybe the next day we chew a bunch of hard candies. Then one thing led to another, we just didn’t do the everyday preparation we should have. And now, all we can do, is sit there nervously in the lobby, and wait.

Tick, Tock – Tick, Tock – Tick, Tock – Tick, Tock

But there is also another kind of waiting. Waiting with joyous anticipation.

Imagine you’re throwing a party. You have all the food and drink ready to go. You have games planned and music going in the background. You’ve decorated your home and cleaned up your house. Now you’re sitting on your comfortable couch at home, excitedly waiting for the guests to arrive. You’re excited because you know that when the guests come, you’ve done everything you can to be a good host.

Tick, Tock – Tick, Tock – Tick, Tock – Tick, Tock

It feels different, doesn’t it?

Either scenario can be what waiting in the church feels like, or what Advent feels like. In one scenario, we know that Jesus is coming again and we know we’re not living right now in the way that Jesus calls us to live.

In our day-to-day living, it’s easy to get complacent. It’s easy to forget to pray at night or to skip worship on Sunday. It’s easy to forget how important it is to serve to the poor and needy and fight for justice in this world. One thing leads to another and before you know it we’re not doing what we’re called to do.

Expecting Jesus to come feels like waiting in the dentist’s office when we haven’t flossed for months. Like a dentist, Jesus cleans us up now matter how much or how little we’ve done to prepare for the visit. It’s not that our salvation is incomplete. That work is done on the cross.

But we end up wondering, what was I waiting for?

In the other scenario, we know that Jesus is coming again and we’ve done what we’ve been called to.

Like any party, we know that we haven’t planned things perfectly, and there is always something we forgot to do, but we’ve done what we can to be ready. We didn’t just wait. We’ve spent time in prayer and worship. We’ve served the poor and needy. We’ve fought for justice, and now we’re excited for the guest of honor to arrive.

In reality, we are always living out both scenarios. There are times when we do what we are called to do, and there are times where we wish we had done more.

I think this is what messengers like John the Baptist and Malachi do in our lives, they remind us of what God has done and what God will do, and tell us to be ready when the time comes. They remind us that we are called to places in this world and in our lives that are still a work in progress.

There is still work to be done before the guest arrives.

Malachi says that the Messenger of God refines us like silver, which by the way is a really awful prospect. Refining silver means placing raw silver in nitric acid and heating it to 1,200 degrees. Then the silver is churned over and over until it becomes pure silver.

The change that needs to happen in our lives isn’t easy. It’s painful. It requires a hard look into our lives. It requires an honest word from a friend, or a life-changing situation. It happens in that quiet moment when we realize, I’ve done something to hurt someone else, I only care about myself, my life isn’t what it should be …

Tick, Tock – Tick, Tock – Tick, Tock – Tick, Tock

This could cripple us with guilt until we remember the first advent where we were already forgiven and freed by a child in a manger. And a second advent is coming where God will make us pure. So we say that until Jesus comes back again that work of being made pure, of being refined, has just begun. And Jesus is always calling us to a new way of living.

So how do we discern that call?

I have to admit, I don’t think I can answer this question for you because it’s a personal question. Everyone is called to something different. We are being refined in different ways. But I think the answer lies in the work that the Holy Spirit is doing in us and has been doing since our baptism. That refining that has been happening our whole life.

Maybe you’ve been given a sense of love for the people in Africa. Maybe you have a heart for the environment. Maybe you’ve always wanted to invite a friend into this loving and grace filled world we call the church but haven’t yet had the courage. Maybe God is calling you back to prayer and to worship. Maybe God is calling you to seek forgiveness from a friend, or to give it to an enemy.

We are all called to do something different. The question we have is, what are we waiting for? God is calling us to live here and now in this world.

However God calls us to prepare for this second advent, know that the child in a manger has already come and freed us from guilt and fear, and it is grace to know that the Spirit is refining/working in us even now so that we may live in joyous anticipation of Jesus Christ.

Friday, December 7, 2012

Once you open a package, you can’t put things back in the way they were before.

These words were spoken at the Tuesday noon Bible study and I’m struck by how true they are. Have you ever tried to put a newly bought item back in its tightly wrapped packaging? It never fits quite right, almost like it has groaned and stretched its arms outside of its original compact shape. You can never get it back in, no matter how hard you try.

The words of the prophet Malachi remind me of this type of newly opened gift, “For he is like a refiner’s fire and like a fuller’s soap; he will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver.” That’s what its like when we encounter the grace, forgiveness, and love offered to us through the Christ Child. Every time we, like unrefined silver and gold, truly encounter this love we become refined, heated, and changed permanently. When we truly encounter God things never really go back to the way that they were.

That doesn’t mean that we don’t sin. Like silver, we have to be constantly heated and churned over and over by the Refiner. It’s not a one-time process. We are called every day to encounter the Great Refiner in worship and prayer so that our lives can be changed, and molded so that sin does not reign over us. We remember, especially in this Advent season, that we are freed from sin by the child who came to us in a manger. We sing Zechariah’s song from Luke 1 as our psalm this week, and we sing that because of the coming of this child, “We are free to worship you without fear,” because salvation and forgiveness came to us in the manger, and ever since the world has not been the same.

During this season of Advent, let us consider what it means that God sent his Son into the world as a child in a manger, and how this helps us to encounter God in new and amazing ways. Let us come to worship and be refined through word, song, prayer, and meal. And when we head out into the world, let us remember that we are a like a gift that cannot be put back the way we were before.

Special Congregation Meeting to be Held December 16, Noon
A milestone meeting of the congregation will be held in the Undercroft following the second liturgy on December 16 to receive and approve the work of the Capital Campaign Tithe Task Force. A total of 30 invitations were sent to not-for-profit organizations based on the recommendations of members/friends of the congregation, Neighborhood Ministries, and Missions committees. Twenty of these invitations resulted in requests for funding (26 projects totaling $217,560) from the remaining $91,000 of the tithe ($20,000 was already awarded to Lutheran Social Services for their Center for Changing Lives). After a thorough review of the requests received using the process and criteria endorsed by the congregation, the Task Force recommended the distribution of remaining funds as outlined in the attachment/insert to the vestry who in turns recommends approval by the congregation.

Fair Trade Craft Sale
The Missions committee will be hosting a Fair Trade Craft Sale this Advent. Purchase beautiful and unique Fair Trade items handmade by disadvantaged artisans in developing regions around the world. With each purchase, you help artisans maintain steady work and a sustainable income so they can provide for their families. Lutheran World Relief partners with SERRV, a nonprofit Fair Trade organization, to bring you the LWR Handcraft Project.

The crafts will be available for purchase after both services on December 2, 9, and 16 (cash and check only). See the separate attachment/insert to view some of the items that will be for sale. Fair trade coffee, tea, cocoa, and chocolate from Equal Exchange will also be available. This is not a fund-raiser, just an opportunity to buy good products for a good cause.

New this year, we will also have items available for sale from The Art Shoppe. The Art Shoppe, located in Midtown Global Market, is a local artist collective and micro business venture that Mount Olive helps to support.

Alternative Gift Giving
Are you looking for something different to do this year for Christmas gifts? Take part in a growing tradition by giving gifts that help those in need. The Missions Committee is promoting the idea of alternative gift giving this Christmas. For example, in honor of a loved one, for $120 you can “buy” a stove for a family in Guatemala that provides a safer and more efficient way of cooking. We have catalogues from different charitable organizations that you can use or you can order from the organizations’ websites. Some of these organizations are:

Book Discussion Group
Mount Olive’s Book Discussion group meets on the second Saturday of each month at 10:00 a.m. For the December 8 meeting they will read Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury, and for the January 12 session, Caleb's Crossing, by Geraldine Brooks.

Help Needed!
Our Sexton, William Pratley, has been out for several weeks recovering from surgery. He returns to work next week (thanks be to God!), but with lifting restrictions. Until he is completely recovered, snow removal help may be needed!

If you are willing to help clear sidewalks and steps at church when needed, please call the church office and let us know. We own a snow blower and several shovels, so we have the tools needed – all we need is a few folks who are willing to use them.

Volunteers labor with snow removal will save the church $125 per snow event.

You Can Help!Our Saviour’s Residents
Sixty five people now have their own apartments after years of homelessness and health problems. Their limited budgets make it tough for them to afford the necessities to care for their homes. Brighten their holidays by providing some holiday Cheer (pun intended).
Some suggestions:
•Dish soap
•Laundry soap
•Trash bags
•All-purpose cleaner
•Sponges or towels
•Glass cleaner
•Toilet paper
•Paper towels